Don't Forget
by Puppets Blizzt
Summary: Luke disappears and it sends Lorelai spiraling. ...Yeah, that's pretty much it. Pretty angst-ridden... ish. Set between Season 4 finale and Season 5 premiere, ideally.


**A little one-shot I threw together. Basically... Luke's gone.**

**I feel really bad for doing it to Lorelai, though... but it was something that came into my mind that I really wanted to write.**

**So, here it is. (:**

**Read & Review, pleasee ~**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls.**

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Lorelai stared at Luke's diner tentatively, unsure of whether it was safe to enter. She and Luke had kissed a couple of days previous, but Lorelai was unsure of what to think of it. Should she be happy about it? Nervous? Drawing a breath, she stepped into Luke's diner, the bell jingling above the door upon her arrival.

The curtain didn't stir. The kitchen remained quiet. Customers were sitting at tables, but no food had been served. There were drinks on each table, water, mostly. The coffee pot was empty. _The coffee pot was empty. _Something was definitely wrong. She waltzed over to the counter, drumming her fingers on the tabletop.

"Luke?" she called. No response. Nothing. She narrowed her eyes curiously. Usually, he was here. He was always at the diner early, always there to serve her coffee. He was always there to drill her on the fundamentals of food, attempting to dissuade her from ordering nothing but junk food. But he wasn't here. So, really, she could go crazy with the orders without being pelted. The thought brightened her mood somewhat, but another part of her was saddened. It was their thing. Their bit. It was part of her routine; she would order fries and coffee, he would rebuke her, she would ignore him and insist on getting what she wanted, he would cave. But what to do now?

"Uh... Caesar?"

The plump man poked his head out of the kitchen. He seemed busy cooking, little pieces of food strewn across his apron. "Yeah?"

"Oh, thank God," Lorelai breathed with relief. "Where's Luke?"

"I don't know," Caesar shrugged. He went back to cooking, continuing their conversation from the kitchen. "Is he still asleep?"

"At this hour? I doubt it," Lorelai replied unsurely.

"Oh, well then I don't know. He went out last night and didn't come back. I had to close up. I opened this morning, too."

"Hm," Lorelai thought, "'Kay Caesar. Thanks." She turned away from the counter, her eyes scanning the square. She half expected to see Luke's green truck pull around the square, or see Luke storm across the grass towards the diner. But there was nothing, nada. She spun around again.

"Caesar, I'm gonna take a look upstairs," Lorelai called. Without waiting for a reply, she marched up the staircase behind the curtain, weaseled her way into Luke's apartment, and stood in confusion at what she found.

No Luke. It looked like he hadn't even slept here. Her mind reeled. Where'd he go? Where was he? She was sent into a blind panic. Personally, she thought they were dating now. Didn't couples tell each other everything? Especially where they were going and when they would return so as to avoid such panics as this? She glanced around wildly for a sign as to where he'd gone; a letter, perhaps. But still, there was nothing.

And then her phone rang. Fishing it out of her purse, she looked at the screen. 'Unknown Caller' flashed on the screen.

"Hello?" she greeted.

"Is this Lorelai Gilmore?" the man on the other end asked.

"Um, yes. This is she. May I ask who's calling?"

"This is Robert Matthews, of the New Haven police department. I'm afraid there's been an accident."

Immediately, her thoughts went to Rory. "Is she hurt?"

"'She'? Ma'am, allow me to finish. I am calling from one Lucas Danes's cell phone. He had your number listed in the 'I.C.E.'s so I've called to notify you."

"Notify me?" Lorelai asked hollowly.

"Miss Gilmore… Lucas Danes is dead."

Lorelai stopped moving, freezing as she was. Her breathing stopped, and her heart lurched. She gave an involuntary gasp of shock.

He couldn't be. He couldn't! They had just gotten together! They hadn't a chance at… _them_! This was a joke. It had to be. Some cruel, sick, twisted prank… or a nightmare. Maybe she was dreaming. She pinched herself, closing her eyes forcefully. When she opened them, she still stood alone in Luke's apartment. She swung her head; Luke Danes couldn't be dead! He couldn't be gone from her forever!

"M-Miss Gilmore?" the police man asked.

"No," Lorelai protested stubbornly.

"I—Pardon me?"

"No. It's not him. You've got the wrong man. Luke doesn't have a cell phone."

She tried to believe it. It couldn't be Luke – he didn't have a cell phone! He would have told her, wouldn't he? He would have told her if he had a cell phone, as well as the number so that she could call him when need be. It was something they were obligated to do now as a couple. She rambled on hysterically about how Luke didn't have a cell phone, how Luke never got into accidents, and how Luke would have told her if he _did _have a cell phone. The man gently cut in again.

"But ma'am... I'm calling you from his—" Lorelai cut him off impatiently.

"Do _not _call me ma'am," she corrected harshly.

"Sorry, Miss – Miss Gilmore. I'm calling you from his phone. We have his license, his phone, his truck…"

Lorelai dropped her phone. "No!" She shrieked, uncaring who heard. "Damn it, no!" She threw the closest thing, a pillow, half way across the apartment. She threw a fit in the middle of Luke's vacant apartment, throwing items this way and that in a wild rage. She sank back against the door of his apartment, picked up the phone and pressed it deftly to her ears.

"Sorry," she apologized weakly. "I—I – sorry…"

"It's nothing, ma'a—Miss Gilmore. I can tell this has hit you hard. I think… I think I'll let you go now, if you don't mind."

"Um, yes… sure. Have a good – have a nice – err… bye," Lorelai stammered. She hung up the phone quickly and cradled it close to her chest. Why hadn't Luke told her? She fell to the ground, propped up by the door. And lucky it was, because otherwise she would have fallen to the ground never again to sit back up. She let her gaze wander Luke's apartment aimlessly, her blue eyes locking onto each solitary object as if she would never see it again. And maybe she wouldn't – it was unknown who would get what when Luke's will was read. _What would happen to the diner? _God, Luke's diner. He made the perfect coffee. No one else could perfect it the way he did. How would his diner thrive without him? How could _Luke's _exist without _Luke_? Impossible.

Her eyes fell on a book on the shelf beside her. She picked it up, her eyes doing a quick run-over of the title. They were self-help books. The same ones she had seen in Jess's bag at Liz and TJ's wedding. She opened to the first page, and a slip of paper fell out and fluttered to the ground. She dropped her cell phone beside her and picked up the note.

_Luke,_

_Thanks for the books, they really opened my eyes. Glad you hooked your girl, maybe now I'll hook mine. Lorelai really is a lucky girl to have you pining after her. Hope she sees that and that life your way is good. I'm fine I guess. Give me a shout if you get the chance. Wish me luck?_

_Thanks again. For everything._

_Jess_

They had been Luke's books. Of course! Why hadn't she seen it before! His sudden defense of them, the flowers, the invite… everything. He loved her. Of course, she knew that _now, _but he had loved her. So much, that he broke a Luke rule and bought self help books. He had stooped to that level. It was rather sweet, when she thought about it, but then, she had mocked Jess. Oops. Indirectly, she had mocked Luke. No wonder he had taken such offense.

Flipping through the book, she realized a tape had gone along with it. She leaned forward, dragged Luke's radio out from the bottom shelf, and hit 'play.'

"Whose phone calls or visits are never unwanted or too long? Do you see her face? Who would you most like to have in your life to ward off moments of loneliness? Do you see her face? When you travel, who would make your travels more enjoyable? Do you see her face? When you're in pain, who would you most like to comfort you? Do you see her face? When something wonderful happens in your life – a promotion at work, a successful refinancing – who do you want to share the news with? Do you see her face? Whose face appears to you, my friend? Whose face?"

By now, she had drawn her legs up to her chest, her arms locked firmly around them. Her head was buried between her knees, her hair falling messily around her like a veil to ward off 'moments of loneliness.' Gently, she rocked back and forth. She was choking back tears – to no avail – and wiped her face with the back of her hand. He had gone through this; he had sat through the crap of this tape, just so he could better himself so she – Lorelai – would take notice.

"God, Luke. You would do anything for me." Trying to put the tapes aside, she pulled herself to her feet. In a blind daze, she moved through his apartment. Everything grabbed her attention; a picture on the wall of his family when he was little. She took it from the wall and carried it with her. Everything was Luke's. Everything reminded her of him. She stumbled towards his closet and threw open the door.

Plaid. Flannel. Baseball caps. Jeans. There wasn't anything else in his closet aside from one or two suits. She tugged at a flannel shirt, and it fell off the hanger into her arms. She stared at it. Of course, it was plaid and blue. It was the same shirt he had worn when they first met. It was the same shirt he had worn when she has preparing to help him paint his diner. She knew it well. She draped it over her shoulder. She also found a green baseball cap – the one that had been dethroned by the blue cap she had given him – and put it on her head, backwards of course. Then she found an empty box on the floor and laid the picture frame inside, as well as a few others of him as a child and older.

Fighting to maintain control – and failing – she went back for the self help books. She put them in the box, along with the tapes that went with them. She set the box on kitchen table and piled other things into it that held sentimentality to her. Then, she went into his bedroom. She threw one of the pillows into the kitchen and gathered the other in her arms. She buried her head in the plush, breathing in his aroma. His pillow smelled like the diner – fries, coffee, and that little bit of personal Luke that had a hint of vanilla to it in her mind. She gave a soft whimper, unable to control herself. She crashed into Luke's bed, tangling herself in the sheets. She hugged the pillow desperately; clinging to it like it was her lifeline. He was gone. Not forever, and not mentally, but physically. She wouldn't hear him laugh. She wouldn't see his face… he wouldn't be pouring her coffee. He was gone to a place of no return, and he wasn't coming back. She shook with oncoming tears, writhing in the mess of sheets with no one and nothing to calm her down.

The door burst open, hitting the wall adjacent loudly. Lorelai sat up quickly.

"Luke?" she called out, all hope she had left forced into a single word. But it wasn't Luke who ran to her side, but another. She wrapped the female in her embrace, running her hand briefly through her hair.

"Mom!" Lorelai's heart had soared with hope, but nearly crashed with the let down. Yes, she loved her daughter, but the person she most wanted right now was Luke. She rolled over dramatically, facing her daughter sorrowfully.

"The guy… he called the home phone. I was there, and when he told me… I came straight here. Caesar said you've been up here for _hours_," Rory rambled.

Lorelai didn't seem to hear her. She stifled her cries in Luke's pillow, letting the tears roll of her face. "He… he's _gone_, Rory…" she choked. Her daughter attempted to sooth her, but nothing seemed to do the trick. "We—We wasted _so _much _time_! And we finally – we finally get together and… he's _gone_?" she blubbered.

"I'm sorry. I'm _so _sorry. You don't deserve this, you two. It's…it's unfair."

"_IT'S NOT FAIR!_" Lorelai mourned, dragging the sheets up to cover half her face.

"You're right. It's not fair. But you shouldn't be like this… you need to get up."

"No," Lorelai objected stubbornly.

"Mom…" Rory trailed desperately in an attempt to convince her mother to change her mind.

"No," she repeated.

"Mom—"

Lorelai cut her off again, her patience wavering. "_Rory_." She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear about how laying in bed – in _Luke's _bed – wasn't good for her; how she should sit up; how she should eat, go down to the diner and get food; how she should do _anything _but lay there and wallow. That was the only thing she wanted to do. She wanted nothing else.

Thankfully, her daughter understood. She crawled next to her and let her mother lay her head in her lap. She brushed her hair away from her face and brought the edge of the sheet up to wipe the tears from her eyes. "Shh," she whispered to her mother gently, stroking her hair delicately.

* * *

Eventually, Rory had succeeded in dragging her mother from Luke's apartment and into her own home. The box of Luke's things that Lorelai wanted to keep sat on the floor beside her bed. Lorelai herself was curled up under the sheets, a pile of pillows covering her head. She hadn't moved for days. She'd made up excuses not to return to the Dragonfly (not that she needed them; everyone understood her pain). She made up excuses not to move. And she had remained in her bed for a full three days straight. She ate only when she felt like she would die, but it was usually only a bowl of cereal or a bottle of water – anything that was easy to make and required little effort.

Her doorbell rang downstairs, but she didn't answer it. The past few days, it had been Babette checking in on her. If she didn't answer, she'd just force her way in. This didn't bother her. She'd rather they break in then get out of bed to answer the door. And, as she expected, the door burst open – as it was unlocked – and footsteps pounded the stairs. She waiting silently, anticipating Babette's rasping voice of calmness and soothe. She found neither in the worried tone of Christopher Hayden.

"Lorelai, I came as soon as I heard," Christopher breathed, rushing to the woman's side.

She rolled over, not believing her ears. They always were liars. "Christopher?" It had to be a dream. She was dreaming. Why would Christopher come running to her side? Christopher, of all people? She stared up at him disbelievingly, her eyes clouded with grief.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked worriedly.

_You could leave. _She didn't want company, especially from the man who had kept her apart from Luke for all those years. He had always been in the back of her mind throughout everything – as she clearly told him years previous – and was definitely a contributing factor to the reason why it took Luke and Lorelai so long to get together. But in a way… she had to thank the man. If it hadn't been for him and the birth of Rory, she never would have moved to Stars Hollow and, thus, she would have never met the man of her dreams, Luke Danes.

"No," she answered hollowly. She pulled the covers up to her shoulders, using them to dab away the splotches of tears.

"You need to get up, Lor. This can't be healthy—"

"Don't bother, Chris. People have tried. I'm not moving," Stubborn Lorelai, as usual.

"Those people aren't me," Christopher countered softly. He came to her side and pried the blankets from her. Taking her arm, he gave a firm tug on her arm, pulling her to a sitting position. She slumped over the edge of the bed, refusing to look up at him. Wordlessly, he helped her to her feet. She stumbled slightly, and he caught her before she fell. No word of thanks, but a soft smile to convey the message.

"They sure aren't," she agreed. For the first time in days, she made her way down the stairs and through her home, taking with her Luke's baseball cap, wadded up in a ball between her petite hands. She went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. No coffee. She didn't want coffee. It only reminded her of Luke. It was too painful. Even the feel of the hat between her hands was almost too much to bear.

Christopher followed her loyally, making sure she found something to eat and sat down across from her at the kitchen table. He hadn't said a word at all, just stared at her worriedly. And he had every right to be. The woman had been holed up in her home for days without any outside contact aside from her daughter, who unfortunately had a key. Babette had stopped by, but Lorelai always sent her away. And, like a good neighbor, she left obligingly. Sookie, working at the Inn, had little time to come over, but she always sat silently in her room. There were no words, just silent friendship – the very best kind at a time like this.

He watched her carefully, afraid that she would fall over at any given moment. She lifted her head with what strength she had, her once-bright eyes now void of most emotion.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

The question pierced him. It hurt him. He had every right to be her—No, he didn't. He had never been around when Lorelai or Rory needed him. He had no right to be there, now.

"You're my –" he searched for the term, "friend. You're my friend, Lorelai. I owe you my company at a time like this."

"At a time like what?" Lorelai demanded harshly, the pain of her loss striking her again.

"Well, you—Luke—he—uh…" Christopher stammered, unsure if the woman was serious about her question or just crazy. Or maybe a little of both. "Lor…"

"Go home, Christopher," Lorelai said softly, shaking her head in disapproval. She didn't want him here in her home. She didn't need him here. She could suffice on her own – she had. She had done just fine before he came in. Why, even, had he come? Who had told him? It hadn't been printed in the paper as far as Sookie and Babette had reported.

"I think you need me," Christopher argued.

No, she wanted Luke back. She wanted to be able to see his face and hear his voice. She wanted to be able to drink coffee without feeling the pain again. No… she _needed _these things. These impossible things… she needed them to sustain herself. She didn't need Christopher Hayden.

"No, I don't," she assured, "I'm fine."

"I disagree," Christopher shook his head.

Lorelai snorted. Of course he did.

"Just go, Chris… just… leave…" she whispered, pushing her face into her hands. She stood up from the table and walked away, leaving Christopher no choice but to follow. As she made her way up the stairs to the landing, she could hear Christopher behind her. She spun on the spot just as he started to ascend the staircase in pursuit. Now, she was getting annoyed. "Go home."

"No. You need someone to be here, Lor. _I know you_. And you don't want to be in this house all alone." He took a step towards her, pulling her close into a hug. Or, what was attempted as one. She pulled away with distaste, shoving against his chest.

"No," she objected. She turned, but Christopher grabbed her hand. He pulled her in again. But this time, he dragged her into a kiss. She needed one. He wasn't forceful, just gentle. For a brief moment, Lorelai reciprocated the action, before her senses came flooding back. She shoved him harder this time, stumbling back against the wall. She was on the verge of tears now.

She had just cheated on him. On her boyfriend. Yes, he was gone now, but she had still been disloyal to him. "Luke… I'm sorry…." She murmured softly, shaking her head in dismay.

"Luke?" Christopher asked incredulously, "Luke's dead, Lorelai. I'm alive, he's not."

Lorelai stared at him, struck and offended by his words. "Is that what this is about, Christopher? You're using his death to get to me? That's low, even for you. You thought that you could just waltz into my life after he was out of the picture and take over? You thought that I'd just forget him? That just proves one thing, Chris. You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. You don't know the _first thing _about me. And you know what that is? I _never _forget people I love. Ever. They're always a part of me."

Christopher was silent, drinking in her words. There was truth in them, but there were lies, too.

"You can't possibly have loved that man, Lorelai. You're just confused by his death… hurting and pained…"

"Do _not _think that you know how I feel, Chris," Lorelai snapped.

"Lor—"

"Go home. Leave me alone or I'll… I'll call someone on you to make you. Just leave me alone from now on. I don't want anything to do with you. Not anymore." She stormed up the stairs.

These words hurt him more than anything, but he knew not to follow this time. There were boundaries, and he had definitely crossed them. Resigned, he turned and left, descending the staircase into her home and driving away.

Lorelai gave a small sigh of relief as she could hear him drive off. She collapsed into her bed, drew the sheets around her, and heaved her shoulders with a onset of crying. First, she had lost Luke. And now she was pushing away the only other man who had really been a part of her life, Christopher. But that was all for the better. She couldn't deal with him right now, so close to Luke's death. In fact, she'd never be able to put up with him anymore. Ever.

In what felt like minutes but were really hours, Rory was by her side, seated in the armchair beside the bed. In an instant, her eyes fluttered open. She stared at her daughter, watching her as she stared back.

"You know what he said to me once?" There was a sparkle in Lorelai's eye at this thought, a small smile creeping slowly onto her face.

Seeing her mother smile, a sign of happiness no matter how small, caused Rory to smile in return. "What?"

But this wasn't a happy smile. It was a broken smile; a smile that reflected her bittersweet memories of the man who had once been in her life. The man who had played such a major role in her everyday tasks; who still did. She gave a small laugh, withholding tears as best she could.

"He asked me if he would ever be forgotten. He asked me if I would forget him. Why… why would I ever do that? So, naturally, I told him it was impossible. Luke Danes is not easily forgotten. I told him I'd never forget him. I think we were kidding around, mostly, but… still."

Rory wasn't sure how to respond. She could almost picture him, _"Don't forget me, Lorelai." _Almost. The thought of him saying that – sincere or not – made her smile with amusement. She watched her mother's reaction; she shifted from a moment of happiness to sadness once more, her smile turning upside down again. Her blue gaze flicked to the box of things by the bed, and she withdrew the picture of Luke as a child from its contents. More so, it was his family, but she mostly focused on him. He had a strikingly similar appearance to his father, William. She ran her hand gently over the glass which protected the photograph, a tear trailing down her cheek.

_Luke… I won't forget you. How could I? I remember the day we first met well, now. You refused to give me coffee and I bothered you until you caved. Secretly, I think you enjoyed it… ha. I remember you. I remember you trying to be a good uncle to Jess, and I know he truly appreciated you. I don't think he ever got the chance to tell you that, but… he loves you. And I love you. I know, we don't have much of a history _together, _but we do have a history. As friends, we have a detailed history. You kept me grounded and sane, you supplied me with my coffee and the means of caring for my daughter. You've been a better father to her than Christopher. I really wish that we could have had something more together. We never really got a chance to explore what we could have. We never got that chance. It was cruel of Fate to take that away. I know you don't believe in Fate, but I do… I believe She is what led us together. Through everything, I think that Fate has guided us to one another; through the ups and the downs and the wrongs and the rights. _

_ I'll miss you, Luke. How could I not? You're the best thing that's ever happened to me… aside from Rory. Without you in my life, I wouldn't _have _a life. I wouldn't have this life that I have now. I wouldn't be as successful, I wouldn't—I'd be nothing. Maybe I am now. I love you, Luke._

_ But you've left me behind. You've gone off to another place and you've left me here without you. How am I supposed to live? I can't be mad at you; this wasn't your fault. You had a lifetime left to live; a lifetime left to experience life to the fullest. We were going to take on the world together, remember? What about now? The plans are on hold indefinitely. I won't let go of them._

_ And I won't let go of you. I'd die before I did that. You're everything to me, Luke. You're my world and my sky. You're the sun that keeps me alive. The sun will never burn out, and neither will you. I'll never let go, Luke. Just as I promised. I won't forget you._

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**Theeeeee end.**

**Yep...**

**So, yeah.**

**Review, por favor. (:**

**Puppet xx**


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